


Survivor

by MitchiBee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:36:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MitchiBee/pseuds/MitchiBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day her home burned to the ground was the day she started running. She never looked back... lingering on the past wasn't an option if she wanted to stay alive.</p><p>Cora Hale has always been a survivor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, this is my headcanon backstory for Cora because let's face it... we will never get answers, This story follows Cora's life after the Hale fire and will lead up to when Derek finds her in the vault. There is a prequel being written simultaneously cause I can't focus on one thing at a time. Please note: This is my first actual fic so be kind if my summaries and formatting aren't up to par.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day her home burned to the ground was the day she started running. She never looked back... lingering on the past wasn't an option if she wanted to stay alive.
> 
> Cora Hale has always been a survivor.
> 
> (Set Pre-Canon. Post Hale Fire)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my headcanon backstory for Cora because let's face it... we will never get answers, This story follows Cora's life after the Hale fire and will lead up to when Derek finds her in the vault. There is a prequel being written simultaneously cause I can't focus on one thing at a time. Please note: This is my first actual fic so be kind if my summaries and formatting aren't up to par.

It hurt. Everything hurt.

Her chest. Her head… her skin, her hair. Everything. Fighting to draw air into her lungs, the girl’s body trembled with the effort.

“M-ommy?” she stuttered. "M-mom-ma?" The words barely formed on her cracked lips. Chest too tight to take in anything beyond shallow little gasps, she squawked in pain at her lame attempt to move her legs. Blinking harshly, eyes refusing to adjust to the dim light. A wave of disgusting char hit her nose and her stomach twisted into a knot. “Gra-mmy?” Cora rasped, throat protesting her attempts to speak.

Whimpering, she put her hand to the wooden material pinning her against the broken floor panels. “Ehh ah!” The surface of her skin was sensitive to any pressure, bringing it close, she could see the red of flesh coated with blackened skin. This was the burnt smell that trapped itself in her nostrils. It was her home… herself… her family…

Cora remained still, fighting her angry, heaving chest. She wanted to throw up, she wanted to scream but her throat was too dry and every attempt came to a weak huff of breath, then nothing. Feeling the burns lining her arms beginning to close, she gave another push. 

Tugging her leg a second and third time, Cora managed to loosen the shafts and wiggle away, rolling onto all fours and crawling, groaning at every shift in weight. Relying on the scattered remains of the walls, she placed one foot in front of the other.

She stumbled, leg caught in the clutter, falling forward, arms unable to catch her fall fast enough. A renewed flow of blood matted her blistered and cracked skin. Cora coughed and gagged. A different scent tangling with the irony stink. It was faint but if she just focused. Just focused… she could…

Uncle Peter.

"Uncle Pe-ter…?" she whispered. "Un-cle Peta," the childish nickname slipping through. Cora felt a smile toying on he edge of her lips. Her uncle was weird and sometimes mean. But he always took care of family. He liked to show up to school too often but it was okay because like her mom said, he just showed he cared in weird ways. And if he was here, then things would start being okay again. "It hurts." 

Trying to hoist herself up, her hand came into contact with a black chalky something. With no traction and her hand slid, ruining her balance and she toppled forward. Landing on something fleshy and…wet… Blinking, she held her palm close to inspect the stickiness and her empty stomach heaved. Blood. Not hers. It was…

Body shaking at the realization, she hated herself, hated that briefest possibility of hope. Cora should have known. If she focused enough, she would have realized that death hung over the rotting shell of their home like an open wound. 

Streaks of tears flowed from her brown haunted eyes, tricking onto her gaping burns but it didn’t bother her. It was nothing against knowing everyone was gone… Nothing against that clenching inside her chest. Until she heard the faintest thump.

So quiet, it seemed she imagined it. 

Thump. 

But there it was again…

…and again.

…and again.

Sharply inhaling, she gathered the courage to rest her gaze on the still being she tripped over. “Uncle Peetuh…” she whimpered, vision blurring, saving her from continuing to take in the still form.

Hands with exposed raw palms reached out to rest on the lying form, shirt torn away leaving wounded flesh and skin, Cora scooted closer all the while hissing with pain at her every move. He was still warm to the touch. Alive. That’s all she needed. 

"Its… its gonna be oh-oh-kay," the little eleven year old tried to comfort as any of her pack would her. His healing should kick in soon, like hers did. All she had to do was wait… right?

"Uncle Peter?" she whispered again, hushed when she heard movements from outside the wreckage. "It’s Cora… you gotta get up, okay? Someone’s coming."

Unable to see his face, she moved to turn his shoulders her way, hoping to get a good enough grip to help him up. They needed to go before the hunters came back. His head moved limply, neck hardly playing its role and the moment she caught a glimpse, Cora gasped and found her arms useless. Her uncle’s upper body plopping onto the burnt floors.

There was just a little pink from what she could see, stained with black across his skin and the gross lingering of overcooked meat. 

Stomach turning, she faced away and hurled. Body sick to the core with absolute disgust and horror. “No… no…no…” the eleven year old pleaded, resting her hand on the arm to which bits of fabric clung to. Cora searched for something familiar, something to find comfort in. She makes eye contact with his vacant gaze. He stared at nothing but the space slightly to the right of her. No warmth, no annoyed glare, no arrogant snark, not hints of pride at her latest accomplishment, not even his signature sassy edge. Nothing but blankness. Struggling to allow air into her lungs, the girl dissolved into short, pained gasps and sobs. Reaching her arm out, she gently shut his eyes unable to look at such familiar yet foreign eyes.

But there was breathing. He was breathing. Why wasn’t he looking at her? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Why didn’t he do anything? 

"I-I ddon’t know what to do. Pleease," she begged. "You gotta get up, Uncle Pete. You got-ta- We have to- Everyone promised, but you don’t break-" Her voice caught in her throat. Mouth shaping unintelligible syllables with no sound. Cora collapsed into a small ball, pressing her cheeks to his body, needing to find something that was no longer there. 

"We have to go!" She tightened her hold around his neck. "Please… please don’t leave me here alone. You have to come with me! You have to!" 

Pack didn’t leave pack. She couldn’t leave him. He was still here, even if the vacant gaze in his eyes suggested something else. Cora sucked in a deep breath and rested her palms against his cheek trying to take what she could. She only managed a few moments before pulling away and cradling her arms to herself. New tears, new anguish. 

Why wasn’t he getting up?

"I’m scared," she whimpered. "Please… please… please. Uncle Peter, I need you. I need someone." 

The fallen panels were beginning to shift and she wasn’t getting any response as she tugged at him. Crawling back up, she reached for his hand and pulled on his arm. Her body refused to cooperate. She wasn’t strong enough now. The girl could hardly stand on her two feet, let alone tug a grown wolf through the destroyed rumble. Her uncle slipped through her fingers and the girl stumbled forward. Hearing the wooden panels being moved, Cora felt her panic heighten. She didn’t have a choice… He’d understand, wouldn’t he? He had to… 

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry…" she whimpered, running her hand gently along his cheek, hoping for some type of response. Taking in sharp, shallow breaths, her eyes darted from the moving debris and her uncle. Nothing. Just nothing. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry," she mumbled, dropping a light peck on her uncle’s forehead, forcing herself to ignore the horrible stench hitting the roof of her nose. "I love you, Uncle Peter." Scooting back, tears trailing down her cheeks and landing below, Cora shoved and maneuvered her way out of the wreckage.

The brunette began running and never stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic so please l eave any comments or suggestions: littlebrokensurvivor.tumblr.com or pixiemitchi.tumblr.com


	2. Unacceptable Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story may be a bit graphic and I think I may change the audience. Also, yay two chapters in a day? Go me. This will never happen once spring break ends. But on with the story. :)
> 
> Trigger Warning: Panic attack, torture

Bare feet leaving imprints on the earth below, the petite Hale stumbled and limped her way through the dense forest that covered her family’s land. Her movements tugged at the blisters and raw skin covering the pup from head to toe but it hardly deducted from the mess in her head. Everything was a fumble of thoughts. She kept panting, gasping for air, small hand clutching the remaining material of her t-shirt collar as if she could free the tension in her chest by pushing down on herself.

What was she supposed to do? Wha-what did this mean? She couldn’t wrap her mind over what she was running from or where she was running towards. All Cora knew was that her feet, as sore as the bare soles were, needed to keep moving. There was danger and she needed to get away from danger.

Hide and heal. Hide and heal.

Just like how mom always taught her. 

It dawns on her once more. Mom is gone. Mom is gone. Home is gone. Grammy is gone. Auntie Linda…and her baby…Uncle George…Cedric…Hayley… Uncle Felix…That visiting beta and her daughter- And Uncle Peter… Oh god, Uncle Peter- 

Cora dropped to her knees, even if that voice in her head is screaming at her to be careful to find somewhere safe to hide. She can’t think, she doesn’t understand any of it. Just that besides her Uncle Peter there were no beating hearts… no breathing… There was nothing and if she took a second to think back to when the flames were engulfing the walls her mom was howling and Cora was focused on her beating heart until- 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

NO. She needed to refocus. She needed to get away before the hunters circling the house, before the dangerous people got her but-

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

They were gone. They were gone. They were gone.

Cora buried her face into her hands, desperately sucking in air but it wasn’t enough. She grabbed at her throat, pounding her chest with one fist trying to loosen her airways. Nonononononono. No no no. Her thoughts were flying, so loud, yet so quiet. She couldn’t find the start of one thought and the end of another. It was just a series of everything: the fire, the screaming, the stink, the burning stench that clung to her. No no no no no no.

The urge to scream bubbled in her chest and all Cora can do to hold it in is wrap her arms desperately around herself. She can’t make any more noise. Not that she was making much, or was she? The pup could judge above the pounding of her own heart and quick breaths. Grinding her teeth together, she could feel her fangs growing in, claws following the lead. 

The ends of her nails drew streaks of red. Eyes flashed that brilliant gold. Cora pressed her forehead to the forest ground, curling her fists into tight balls using the addition of pain as her claws dug into her palms to pull her from her feverish frantic mush of thoughts. 

“A-alpha, beta, omega,” she whispered to herself, a howl clawing at her hoarse throat. “Alpha, beta, omega.”

Hot tears build behind eyes squeezed shut. No, she will not let them fall. No, she will not shift. She needed control. She needed control. She had to. 

Cora tried to picture her mom and Grandma whispering: “Alpha, beta, omega.” But seeing their smiling faces only added to that feeling of someone tearing through her stomach. Her head still spun and her senses were over vigilante with her hearing the brook up the hill, the birds in the trees, the burning scent still trapped in her nose. Everything was too much. Too much. 

“Alph-”

Something finally yanks her from her thoughts, the instinct to protect herself from danger. 

That same scent. That sickly sweet scent blended in with wolfsbane and mountain ash. Cora never had a good nose but every pup is taught to distinguish herbs dangerous to wolves… and that grossly sweet perfume… well Cora had smelt that before… around school, from the windows earlier this morning… along with those other scents. 

The wind was blowing the opposite way that’s why it took her so long till she realized that these strangers were so close. Snarling, dull fangs growing to their fullest extent, Cora forced herself up half-shifted, giving herself as much and as little control of her wolf as she could. Enough for instinct to lead the fight and to keep some logical train of thought, it was difficult balancing that line and the longer she swayed in place waiting for the approaching hunters, the more she found her sane mind slipping in favor for her animalistic one. 

She heard the swoosh of an arrow before seeing it. Throwing herself down, Cora narrowly avoided the series of sharp weaponry that lodged themselves in the trees behind her. Growling, eyes shining threateningly, she simply reacts. None of the fighting techniques Laura, Derek or Uncle Peter taught her coming to mind. The youngest Hale broke into a sprint. The burning from her still healing wounds dulled into the back of her mind, so did the agonizing turmoil in her mind. 

The sole thought controlling her: survive. 

Two figures made their presence known as they stepped away from a large bark. She couldn’t see what they held but knew enough to avoid them. 

The leaves behind her crunched under the huntress’s boot and Cora’s attention went from the two men to the woman. Crouching low, muscles tensing to launch herself at the threat, if she couldn’t run… she would have no choice but to attack. It was far from her best chance. But it was a chance. 

Wincing as the hunter unleashed a frequency piercing her ears and made it feel like her skull was splitting, she whined loudly, shielding her ears still trying to keep an eye on all three, no four, hunters circling around her. She was a pup cornered, signaling for help that wasn’t going to come. Still the high-pitched cries for help continued to escape the little Hale. 

Taking a step back, she attempted to break into a run through the two male hunters. Before she got close a grenade was thrown in front of her. Without a chance to react, a blinding light made it impossible for her to open her eyes. With impaired hearing and no sight, Cora simply swiped at any thing that came close. She dropped to her knees, snarling and growling at her immediate surroundings. 

“Go away!” she shrieked. “Go aw-way!” she howled.

The next pain came from a piercing to her shoulder. Something jammed it’s way deep into the flesh causing the tears she desperately tried to keep at bay to spill down pale cheeks. 

A sharp jolt pulsed through her body, followed immediately by a bigger electric jolt coming from something placed on her neck. 

The white spots in her vision gave way to black blobs but before her world went dark once more, Cora caught a brief glance at a tall blonde with a crossbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop by my tumblr(s) if you have any comments or suggestions: littlebrokensurvivor.tumblr.com or pixiemitchi.tumblr.com


End file.
